Vol 6 Ch 10

The pool in the room was empty. A few fallen leaves lay inside, and it was so parched you could almost believe it was a winter pool.

I sat on the edge of the pool, nodding my head back and forth. The wound on my hand had mostly healed, and the scab that had formed had fallen off. A thought kept repeating in my mind. Kwon Taeha is the child born from the immoral acts of Eva Kwon and Kwon YYiwon. Did my father know that fact too? And what about her…? I still couldn’t believe that the corpse I saw and she were the same person.

Aeil Kwon. Did that bastard kill her?

I scratched the tattoo on my wrist. Lately, all my nervous energy had been focused on the tattoo. Because of that, the skin there had become rough, like the hands of someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder. When she came to see me around the age of twenty, what was it she had wanted to say? If it was really important, she could have told Jahan… If she had left a message, Jahan would have told me.

I pulled my legs, which had been dangling in the pool, back and gestured to turn off the TV that had been left on meaninglessly.

When I fastened the buttons of the unfastened vest, the dealer’s uniform tightened around my body. The dealer uniform of ‘STA Füssen’ was a slim fit with a bad taste rivaling that of the Maxho.

I went out to the living room, put on my wristwatch, and approached the door. As I opened the door, Wagner, who was outside, grinned.

“Going to work now?”

“Yeah.”

Stepping on the corridor carpet, I headed towards the elevator.

I started working around the time the scab began to form on the wound. When I said I’d rather work than just stay in my room, surprisingly, Kwon Taeha readily agreed. The condition was that it had to be within Füssen. Additionally, as long as Wagner accompanied me, I could go out whenever I wanted. I had taken a step back from the fight surrounding WikiLeaks, but not all questions had been resolved. Kwon Taeha probably knew that too. To be honest, I wanted to ask for his help, but my nerves weren’t dull enough to say it out loud. I didn’t want to make him feel like I was using him.

“Excuse me, excuse me! Are you perhaps Korean?”

I was wandering around the slot machines on the first floor when a woman grabbed my arm.

“Yes, I am. How can I help you?”

“Ah! Great. I just won some money on this machine, and I don’t know how to cash it out.”

She pointed to the nearest slot machine. I walked over smiling; it had hit a x100 multiplier. Since the amount she actually bet was only about 2,000 won in Korean currency, she seemed quite disappointed. But I wondered if she knew this: if she had bet a large amount, it absolutely would not have hit a x100 multiplier.

“Would you like to cash out now?”

“Yes!”

I ended the game for her, inserted and then removed the machine’s savings card. After confirming the amount saved, we walked together to the cashier.

“How much will I get if I cash this out?”

“It will be about 200,000 won in Korean currency.”

“Wow, jackpot! Table games are probably harder than slot machines, right?”

“If you know the basic rules, you can definitely enjoy them.”

“I’m here on a package tour, and the guide told me something. He said if I hit a jackpot at the casino, I should contact him. He’s not trying to take money from me, is he?”

“Probably, he’s worried you might have problems when entering the country and is offering to handle it for you. Of course, you’d have to pay him a service fee.”

“Is that so? Can I win tens of millions with 200,000 won?”

“It’s not impossible.”

Although, probabilistically speaking, it would be less than 0.01%.

I handed the card to the cashier and gave the cashed amount to the woman. With an excited face, she glanced at the game tables, seemingly caught up in the expectation of making more money with her 200,000 won windfall. I slightly bowed my head and subtly said to her,

“If a local approaches you and suggests playing games together, refuse.”

“Why?”

“They are usually card sharks. There are over a hundred tables in this area. Pick a few tables to watch, then go find a seat near people who look like tourists. After that, just leave it to luck.”

It wasn’t a tip for winning at the tables, just a way to avoid naively losing money to seasoned local gamblers. I exchanged greetings with the woman who thanked me and went back to patrolling the slot machines.

Even though I wore a dealer’s uniform, I wasn’t working as a dealer. My job was to manage the casino machines and handle various tasks for general customers. The Füssen casino was divided into a total of six areas, and its size was at least 1.5 times larger than the resort I had previously worked at. Each area had staff who could speak not only Korean, Chinese, and Japanese but also English, French, and German. The dealers had badges on their chests with the initials of the languages they could speak. The absence of a language barrier was Füssen casino’s merit, if you could call it that.

After making one round of my designated area, I realized over two hours had already passed.

I stood by the central pillar in the staff waiting area and looked around. From everywhere, the sounds of slot machines paying out and cheers could be heard. Seeing a foreigner dancing excitedly, though I didn’t know how much he’d won, a faint laugh escaped me without my realizing.

“What’s so funny?”

A man who came around the pillar suddenly asked.

“A guest won some money.”

“You find it fun that my pockets are being picked?”

Kwon Taeha was being mischievous; he tapped my name tag.

“What brings you here?”

I thought you were in Germany. I asked quietly since guests were passing by.

“I came back to have dinner.”

Thud, thud. He removed my name tag. Without a word, I followed his gesture indicating my work was done for the day. I waited for Kwon Taeha to lead the way, and as soon as he moved, I started following a step behind. As we were walking towards the casino entrance, he suddenly turned to look at me. The extravagant chandelier hanging from the high ceiling made him stand out even more.

“Come closer.”

I took one step closer to him.

“More.”

This time, it was a half-step. Meanwhile, employees who recognized the CEO bowed and passed by. Seeing their curious eyes, he took my hand. Then he started walking again.

“You’re still my boyfriend, officially. The head dealer.”

“Work must be getting more comfortable.”

“Is anyone bothering you?”

“Not really.”

“Mr. Kwon, the CEO’s boyfriend, doing odd jobs? That’ll improve the image. Is Joo Hawon personally demonstrating noblesse oblige? That no job is beneath you?”

Although he had permitted it, it seemed he was actually dissatisfied with me working.

We took the VIP elevator to the restaurant on the 38th floor. He didn’t let go of my hand until we entered the restaurant. By tomorrow, no, within just a few dozen minutes, the rumor would likely spread widely. Sure enough, we were ambushed by paparazzi popping flashes. Kwon Taeha gestured towards the paparazzi, and the bodyguards swiftly confiscated everything, from the film to the cameras. Since some paparazzi use phone cameras, it’s unlikely Kwon Taeha can completely block the exposure of his private life.

The private hall, offering a view of the gorgeous nightscape, was set with tableware for two. Perhaps the Macau hotel managers took great pride in the night view, as most hotel windows were full-glass structures. It was a design that likely catered to the psychology of those seeking a sense of conquest, with the city laid out before their eyes.

It was only after entering the hall that he let go of my hand. He and I sat at opposite ends of a long table that looked like it belonged in medieval Europe. At the ends of the three-bulb brass marble candelabra placed in the center, melted candle wax had congealed in geometric shapes. The hardened, dripped wax resembled a silent waterfall and also seemed like a secret pattern imbued with a sculptor’s profound intent.

“Do you like meat?”

“More than vegetables.”

If I had to choose between vegetarianism and carnivorism, I would choose the latter. The clear, red wine filled the glass, and a sweet aroma reached the tip of my nose.

Sauerkraut, provided as a basic offering at all STA Füssen restaurants, was placed on the table. A basket containing black rye bread and Mohnstollen (poppy seed stollen) was brought out.

I loosened the suffocating vest and wiped my hands with a warm towel.

Most of the meals I had with Kwon Taeha were probably in Korea. I prefer stews as much as meat, but I rarely saw him eat Korean food.

While soothing my palate with the savory bread, Schweinshaxe (a traditional German dish of roasted pork knuckle) and braised mountain hare were brought to the table. The server placed finely carved meat onto Kwon Taeha’s and my personal plates. The texture of the warm meat was tender.

“How does it taste?”

“Like pig’s trotters.”

Ha, a short laugh escaped him. German cuisine generally tends to be salty, perhaps because it’s often paired with beer. The braised mountain hare didn’t suit my taste, so I pushed it aside, and since the pork dish didn’t pair well with wine, I separately requested beer. Kwon Taeha flicked his hand, and the server approached him.

“Take the wine away and bring the same for me.”

The server, who spoke Korean, asked Kwon Taeha,

“If the Dugaspy-Chambertin is not to your satisfaction, we currently have 30 bottles of Château Palmer 1961 prepared.”

“Château Palmer? When did I collect that?”

“No, sir. The Grand CEO sent them two days ago.”

“That old man, he has 500 bottles out of greed. What did he want to exchange for ours?”

“There was no exchange condition, sir.”

“Then send back something of similar value.”

“It seems he is aware, sir, that you possess the Château Mouton Rothschild 1945.”

“Hmm… The old man’s intentions are transparent.”

He paused his meal for a moment, mashing the flesh of the mountain hare in his mouth.

“My grandfather bought the Château Mouton Rothschild 1945 to commemorate the liberation of our homeland. I have 100 bottles in my collection. Out of the 35,000 bottles of Château Palmer produced in 1961, the Macau old man has 500. If we exchange, who stands to lose in the future?”

I am not knowledgeable about wine. I only know that it’s not simply that older wine is more expensive, nor does the price necessarily skyrocket just because the grape harvest was poor that year, resulting in low production.

“Probably more of the Mouton Rothschild, produced 16 years earlier than the Palmer, has actually been consumed.”

“But the old man is hoarding 500 bottles of Palmer.”

I didn’t know who the ‘old man’ he referred to was, but I assumed he was one of Macau’s tycoons.

“Does the ‘old man’ have many children or family?”

“‘Old man’…?”

Kwon Taeha, who had used the term himself, chided me mischievously, as if finding it amusing coming from my mouth.

“Including illegitimate children, there are probably too many to count.”

“…Then it seems better not to exchange.”

“Why?”

“You called him an ‘old man,’ didn’t you?”

“What does that have to do with the wine?”

“Well, you’ll likely outlive the ‘old man,’ and when he dies, the remaining 500 bottles of Palmer will probably be divided among his children or wife. I don’t think all of them will be passionate about wine collecting, and the likelihood of them auctioning it or releasing it to the market is higher than if you held onto them.”

Kwon Taeha listened to my words intently, just like he did that day at the casino table.

“I don’t know how many bottles of that Palmer are left in the world, but hoarding them like that seems like a tactic to artificially increase their scarcity faster than other wines. The ‘old man’ must have overflowing money, and if he doesn’t die within a year or two… As a collector, he has a high probability of replenishing the amount he gave you to maintain his 500 bottles. Since the ‘old man’ must have considered that, it seems obtaining thirty bottles of your wine was harder for him than obtaining thirty more bottles of Palmer.”

“Do you know the quickest way for me to benefit even more than that?”

“You accept the exchange, and then destroy all the Palmer the old man has.”

It was a statement that would get wine enthusiasts dragged to the guillotine immediately. Kwon Taeha laughed out loud, and the server looked horrified.

“My lover is so clever.”

Despite Kwon Taeha’s light tone, the server looked at me as if I were a time bomb.

“Though, in reality, the security of the wine warehouse would be strict, so it’s an impossible story.”

“Send it all back to the old man and make an excuse that it’s like my grandfather’s relic and can’t be exchanged. Ah, take this wine away too.”

Now I saw it; this wasn’t a regular server but seemed to be Kwon Taeha’s subordinate.

“Then shall I really prepare the beer?”

Kwon Taeha gave no answer, but the server bowed.

“Understood. I will prepare it immediately.”

Among the upper class, beer has a strong image of being a vulgar drink. However, it’s only because so much time has passed and it’s become popularized; beer was also initially the exclusive domain of the aristocracy. Ironically, the cheaper and more popular something becomes, the more trivial it is treated. The easiest way to increase the value of any commodity is to raise its price. If even now the price of soju or beer skyrocketed beyond that of premium wine, sales would decrease, and over time, a very long time later, it would establish itself as an exclusive item for the upper class.

Didn’t the old man also collect his 500 bottles of wine aiming to raise the price by exploiting supply shortage? Anyway, I prefer this vulgar drink that I can get anytime and drink anywhere.

As the beer with its thin layer of foam went down, my insides felt chilled.

“You seem to enjoy the drink more than the food.”

“German beer is quite tasty.”

“Unfortunately, that’s also the reason the shale industry is impossible in Germany.”

Kwon Taeha pointed at my beer.

“To extract shale gas and oil, you have to inject high-pressure water to fracture the rock layer, and in that process, the groundwater gets contaminated. The beer masters who claim the foundation of beer taste lies in the groundwater oppose the shale industry within Germany. Fortunately, the taste of beer that Joo Hawon likes can be preserved.”

“Why did you ask to have a meal?”

He speared a piece of the mountain hare with his fork and answered.

“Do people need a reason to eat?”

It wasn’t a wrong statement. I finished the beer, ate a few more pieces of meat, then put the fork down. For some reason, my appetite wasn’t coming.

“Are you still not feeling well?”

“…German food doesn’t agree with me.”

“Then get used to it. I don’t like Korean food.”

What is this about? I laughed absurdly without realizing it, and Kwon Taeha just wet his lips with beer.

“As you said, I have plenty of money, yet it seems I haven’t been able to have a proper meal with you. I prepared this thinking it was somewhat special, but I just got criticized, so I guess I’m acting a bit prickly.”

I looked at Kwon Taeha, puzzled.

“From now on… do as you wish.”

He was already leaving me to do as I pleased.

“If necessary, I’ll assign people to you so you can look into Kim Jaeyeon.”

“What deal do you need this time? I no longer have… anything to give you, CEO.”

I downed the half-finished beer. The tingling sensation and bitterness were addictive.

“From now on, there will be no deals between you and me.”

“……”

“I don’t want to keep accounts with Joo Hawon anymore.”

With those words, Kwon Taeha resumed his meal, and I racked my brain tirelessly to decipher his true intentions. Was unconditional goodwill without ulterior motives even possible for someone like me? I always suspected others’ hands at the casino table; when repaying interest to loan sharks, I left evidence for fear they’d claim I never paid; I guarded against people even more, wary of anyone trying to scam Jahan or me.

In my life, suspicion was a habit. It made things a bit safer, but I lost a great deal of innocence.

*I don’t want to keep accounts with Joo Hawon anymore.*

I repeated it inwardly. The hand clutching the beer glass was so cold it felt like I could sense heat radiating from it. Yet, the human drinking refined alcohol was an unrefined lump of chaos.